Unfaithful Rule
by The Grim Dragon
Summary: 7 years. 7 long years have passed since the Fell Dragon was sealed away with the Tactician once more. The realm had finally known peace... But it was short lived, as Ylisse suddenly found a new threat in someone no one was ready to fight. (Title is subject to change)


**Author's Note: What's this? I'm writing a multi-chapter fic and I'm gonna continuously update it? I'm just as surprised as you are. I'm hoping to finish up this story, and not abandon it like I did last time. I apologize in advance if every update takes a long** **time though. Also, this is rated T for a reason. Violence, language, death, all** **that stuff. Nothing really major, but if there is** **graphic stuff I'll say so in the author's notes, alright? Hopefully you like it. And with that, let's begin.**

**Prologue: Warning**

A gloved hand rapped on the steel doors, the sound echoing through the great halls. It was strange being here like this, and the castle gave off an eerie feeling. A feeling that made the woman sick. It _was_ worse than any ailment she'd suffered in her life, and no matter what she couldn't shake the feeling. 'Just... Remember what you're here for, Mishara. A message. That's all. Then you can go home...' She repeated the message through her mind a thousand times over, careful not to forget it. Exalt Chrom made sure to let her know how important it was, but she still kept a note of the information to be given. It was tucked away within her gauntlet, and the paper was without a doubt crumpled by now. She shook her head and looked back up at the iron gates. She had to say something to those beyond the door or they'd never let her enter. The blonde woman focused her thoughts and finally brought herself to speak.

"I'm... I'm here on behalf of The Exalt Chrom of Ylisse. I come bearing a message for the Queen. I request permission to see her."

Until there came a reply, she kept herself busy by taking in the scenery around her. ...'Scenery' was an interesting word, though. It would imply there was something to take in. Not one she would usually use to describe a place like this. It was dingy and dark, the cryptic flickering orange light of the torches illuminating the room. On the roof were small slots, presumably to let some fresh air flow through, or let smoke escape. Oddly enough, no smoke came from the torches though. Was it a spell of sorts?

On the wall hung great tapestries of battles, and old tales. One that caught her eye was one of the Queen beside a large beast. She held an Axe of sorts. It looked strange, as the blade itself was carved into some form. A dragon?Demon? Was there a difference? Mishara couldn't see it though, and the only other thing in that tapestry she saw was.. A rather large wyvern. Was that the Queen's pet? She rode it into battle before everything happened? The blonde couldn't tell. After that came tapestries of other things, many she couldn't decipher from this far.

It made her feel disgusted, to think that she had once thought of this... This creature, as one to look up to. Red was splashed across a few of the tapestries, and swords were held up above men who lay on the floor. Pillars supporting the structure were all decorated, with what looked to be a snake curling around it's base. Fitting, that's exactly what the Queen was. A snake who's poison had corrupted countless people.

She wasn't here to judge, though. She wasn't supposed to be. She was only a nameless Pegasus knight, chosen for that exact reason. No heritage, nor tales of valour. Just plain Mishara.

She wasn't new to battle, but she wasn't a veteran either. Either way, she was still proud to be given the title of Pegasus Knight. Her own pegasus was being escorted by the guards to the stables, even if she didn't want to be left like this. Mishara hadn't been away from her for that long, but already missed Eris' nuzzles and whinnies. They comforted her, and without them she felt utterly alone.

Heavily armed soldiers stood on the sides of the halls, lances in hand and axes strapped to their backs. Behind that helmet was anyone's guess–it was impossible to see beyond that visor of blackened steel. They felt empty, but she also felt a piercing gaze fixated on her. If she looked a bit further, dark mages could be seen standing high in balconies, like a theater's. She guessed they held Mire–those were the only tomes that could hit her from that far. Mishara didn't like Mire tomes either. She had heard stories of those who survived their attacks–it wasn't pleasant, it would eat away at one's skin until only a skeleton remained. She didn't want to think of what kind of grim play they would watch, for the thought made her shudder.

Mishara suddenly jumped back as the steel doors swung open, revealing an even larger hall than the one she stood in. Guards were still lined up along the walls, but now they brandished javelins, all forged unlike any in Ylisse were. The helmets of steel turned to look at her as she stepped into the hall, and she felt a chill. Their gazes were locked onto her, as if they expected her to attack. The doors screeched to a halt, and suddenly began to close again. There wasn't any means of leaving now, so she could only pray they let her go later. The guards trailing behind her took all her weapons, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to pull any stunt; not that she wanted to. She just wanted to leave, as soon as possible.

"The Queen acknowledges your request, and has permitted your entry."

Whatever guard spoke, she couldn't tell, nor cared, nor had enough courage to ask. The voice was booming and went silent as soon as it began. Mishara was certain she'd go mad in this castle, this asylum was pushing her to her limits now.

She took a deep breath, and began to walk down the hall. The clanking of armor came from right behind her, a constant reminder of the security measures. A step, and a click, step, click. The sounds repeated over and over, heavy armor and leather both hitting the floor after one another. As she neared the last doors, she came before two large guards, wearing segmented armor. Their helmets had two large horns curved inwards, then out, and over their shoulders looked to be violet wings. Whether it was for mobility or the way it intimidated others, that was another thing she couldn't tell. They certainly intimidated her, though, so they were doing their job right if it was the latter.

They stepped aside, and hit the floor with the bottom of their lances three times.

The doors swung open, and beyond them was a grand room adorned with violet and red decorations. She looked down quickly, only daring looking at the ground before the throne. To one side of the throne was a pair of black boots, and on the other was but a regal-looking violet rug. Claw marks had been imprinted on it. The walls were lined with even more warriors. Was this land ever in any shortage of men and woman volunteering to guard this castle?! They seemed to be everywhere!

Mishara looked right in front of the throne, and saw two leather boots adorned with golden embroidery.

She took a step closer to the throne, and was suddenly shoved forward. Mishara caught herself before crashing to the ground, and struggled to push herself back up. "Take a knee before your Queen." A voice bellowed.

She changed to a kneel, one arm over her knee and another against the ground.

"Your name." A woman's voice called out.

"I am Mishara René, a Pegasus Knight of Ylisse–"

"I asked for your name, not your title." The woman said once more. "Tsk, answer only what I ask of you. I needn't be given useless information..."

Mishara felt her heart skip a beat. "M-my apologies, my Queen..."

"Nevermind your mistakes, I have heard you come bearing a message..."

'R-right, the message...' The Pegasus knight thought. "Exalt Chrom says this will be your final warning. He has pressed your troops back from Valm, and will not hesitate to do so again in Ylisse. Call your troops back or drastic measures will be taken. The Exalt does not wish for war, my Queen. Reconsider your actions. There needn't be any more bloodshed."

There was uncomfortable silence. Not a single person dared to make a move, and no one seemed to breathe.

A minute passed and still no response. Another passed, and it suddenly felt like hours had passed. The silence was broken with the sound of... Laughter? What was so funny about this?!

"...Cute. The blue-haired idiot of an Exalt thinks he has a say in this." The woman chuckled, and the sounds of heavy stomping soon silenced her. "Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder where you went."

The stomping ceased, and a thump came from beside the throne. A quick glance upwards showed her a large scaled tail curled around two large, stubby legs and wings. It's claws were pressed against the ground. Mishara soon recognized the beast, and made sure not to look up. She currently kneeled in front of the creature who's fangs were swords, who's claws were spears, who's wingbeats were storms, the shock of his tail, a thunderbolt.

And his breath... _Death_.

Mishara felt her heart race and her breaths quicken, however the Queen didn't seem to notice. Based on the sounds of rustling, perhaps she was patting the beast? How could anyone be so casual with this monstrosity? Her head shifted upwards, and she quickly realized her mistake, as she was quickly kicked to the ground.

Her face hit the carpeted stone floor with a grisly crack. The knight cried out in pain, clutching her bloody nose while struggling to get back into a kneeling position. "You DARE cast your gaze upon the Queen, filth?!" A masculine voiced boomed. She didn't try to answer–the pain was too great to respond right away.

"Now now, Kestrel, there's no need to treat our guests in such a... Barbarous manner..."

'You little hypocrite...' Mishara thought. 'You're one to talk about barbarous actions!'

"My darling Mishara... I want you to go back to the bastard you call a king, and say that if HE doesn't pull back HIS troops, I'll send every capable man and woman to slaughter the cattle you call your people." The Queen ordered.

"W-what?!"

"I don't like repeating myself, girl... Did you not hear me? Perhaps you should learn to listen..." The Queen spoke in a strange tone, as if she were a cat toying with a mouse. It worked, and Mishara felt her blood boil with anger, but stayed quiet from fear.

Her calm tone was beginning to anger her. She spoke of killing innocent citizens as if it were nothing!

"You can't just–"

"Ah-ah-ah!" The noble interrupted. "You are a soldier. You are to deliver judgement, not judge, as an old Warrior once said. Go explain to your moronic king that if he does not surrender, I'll destroy all be holds dear."

Mishara stood up and glared at the Tactician, sitting casually on the throne. A wyvern's head was across her lap, sleeping peacefully as she petted his head, like a lapdog. Her head was leaned against her arm, which was poised on the throne's armrest. Upon it she still brandished the six-eyed mark, which was plastered across her hand in a violet shade. The throne itself had two large pillars on both sides, carved to look like the Fell Dragon's horns, erupting from the floor. The ends of the armrests were shaped like dragon heads, the eyes' amethysts a stunning violet shade. "How dare you! After all you and the Exalt have done togeth–"

A blade was pressed to the Pegasus Knight's back, and she quickly shut up as the blade easily cut through her light armor. Mishara felt blood slowly trickle from the wound, and soak into her clothes. "Know your place, girl." The Tactician announced. "This world is built on rank, and there will only ever be one true ruler who can lead this realm down the right path... But first, there must be only one ruler." A smirk crossed her face. "Now, I offer you one last chance. Tell your Exalt to surrender every ounce of his land, and himself, or die." The lance on her back shifted away, and the clank of metal against stone assured her it as back at someone's side. Mishara's back felt cold, as the castle air chilled the open wound.

Mishara gritted her teeth. What she said next would affect all of Ylisse, and the weight on her shoulders was unbearable. She was just a messenger–why was she under so much pressure?! 'You have to think, come on... What would the Exalt say?!'

"Tick, tock, Mishara, my dear. You have thirty seconds before I make the decision myself."

'No no no no!' The Pegasus knight shook with fear. 'Quickly, Mishara! Do something!'

"...The Exalt would never do business with the likes of you."

The Plegian Queen raised an eyebrow in surprise, losing her smirk quickly. "Really now..? Are you one hundred percent sure this is your final answer...?"

"I-I am—Yes, I-I'm sure..." Her voiced cracked, and the blonde gritted her teeth again. "You don't SOUND terribly sure... Last chance, little Mishara... Is this the path you want to take?"

"I'm su—"

Her sentence was cut off suddenly as the lance from earlier cut into her back, and cold hands seemed to crawl up her spine. The knight lost all feeling in her legs, and she was certain that the only thing holding her up was the lance. She looked down to her abdomen, and the sight she saw was one she hoped to have never seen. Her mouth hung agape, and choked, pained sounds came from her throat. The lance shot through her stomach, and blood had already begun to pool on the floor. Bits of flesh clung to the lance, which suddenly jerked backwards and tore through her again.

The pain was unbearable, and Mishara crumpled to the stone floor, unable to utter a single word. The clack of boots striking stone rang through her ears, and a pair of leather and gold boots stood before her. She looked up, and saw the Tactician smiling down at her. The expression she wore was absolutely mad, and she kneeled on the ground in front of her.

"Does it hurt, Mishara? Oh, you should have SEEN the expression on your face! Gods, it was fantastic! What should I do now? AHAH! I could hang you with the criminals, but oh, that's boring. And you'd be dead by then! Oh, what to do with you!" The Queen held a hand out to her wound, and summoned a bolt of Thoron in her hand. The bolt touched the wound, and Mishara cried out in pain.

"Shhhh, there's no need to do that! Your life'll be over in a few minutes, three at most, if you don't bleed out by then! Hahah!"

The Tactician kept looking over her with that same deranged smile, examining Mishara as if she were examining a piece of meat–

'Oh no... Please, Gods no...' The blonde tried to protest, but couldn't muster the strength to say a word. The Tactician stood up and walked over to the side of the throne, rubbing the giant wyvern's back. "Oh! Oh Varrys! You gotta wake up! I got something for you!"

'Please, have mercy!' She pleaded in he mind, but to no avail. The guard dragged her towards the creature, who looked down at her with glowing emerald eyes. The creatures showed it's shining fangs, and took steps closer to her.

'No! Please! I don't want to die!' A pathetic wheeze came from the woman, and the knight's vision was beginning to blur. A navy blue blur was all Mishara saw walk towards her, tail waving around. "Go on, Varrys!" The mad tactician urged. The Wyvern seemed to listen, and suddenly opened it's maw, neck arched.

"I hope you made the right decision, my dear Mishara!" The tactician laughed.

'No! PLEASE!'

"Because as of today... **War has begun**."

A flash of orange filled her sight.


End file.
